Drabbles
by Medieval Scribe
Summary: Short pieces mostly less than 200 words written for RH-themed challenges at LiveJournal. Canon characters.
1. Chapter 1: Honey

_Note: Originally written for a challenge at the rh_drabblefest LiveJournal community._

**Honey**

It was the honey that did it.

The wedding ceremony was long over but things were still awkward between them. Even their attempts at off-color humor had made no difference.

She decided to give it one last try. "We should open our presents, Will." She began to rifle through a pile on the floor.

"Aha! I found it!" Djaq held up a small jar with a flourish.

"What is it?" He opened it, peered in, and smiled. "Honey."

"Yes." She dipped a finger in and held it out for Will. _I'll have to thank Much for the euphemism. And the present_.


	2. Chapter 2: Love is for the Birds

_Note: Originally written for a challenge at the rh_drabblefest LiveJournal community. This is set in the first series, during the "Parenthood" episode._

**Love is for the Birds**

The bird was skittish, beating its wings frantically against his gloved hand. Vaysey stroked its head and feathers, calming the bird as it began to feed.

He considered that birds were much like women. Most could be broken with just a few honeyed whispers and the promise of a tasty morsel. Some were sparrows, silly little creatures that mistook attention for love. Others were vultures, circling about for something to prey on. These birds did not interest him. They were easy to possess and just as easy to be rid of.

The best of the birds were falcons—clever, haughty and deadly. They were nearly impossible to bring to the fist, but it was exactly the sort of challenge he relished. A good falcon was as good as any man, and twice as dangerous.

Every now and then though, he came across one that simply could not be tamed. No matter how much he fed it and cared for it, no matter how he tried to discipline it, the falcon simply remained as it always was—wild and utterly unpredictable.

_Ah, Marian…I may never be able to break you, but it's time to clip your wings, my lady._


	3. Chapter 3: A Girl's Secret

_Note: Originally written for a challenge at the rh_drabblefest LiveJournal community._

**A Girl's Secret**

They give her Djaq's old bunk. Much shows it to her with great pride, as if it's her job to earn it. Kate shrugs it off. She barely remembers the girl outlaw with the boy's name, and she's tired of hearing the others go on about her. _She's clever, our Djaq_; and _never needed to tell Djaq something twice_; and _her, we liked_. Even _Djaq's pretty_, that one time Allan fell asleep on Kate's shoulder.

She roots around, trying to see if there's something she can learn of this Djaq. There's not much there, a few old clothes, some dried herbs. She throws them into a pile, thinking maybe someone in the village can use them. There are other things too, a round thing made of glass, a leather amulet, some faded parchment with strange writing Kate cannot read. Then, hidden in the back of the space, is a wooden box, a girl's secret. She pries the lid loose and sees that it's full of bandages and rags.

_Aha! Finally something a girl in the forest can use!_ So thrilled is Kate with her discovery that she does not see the leather-bound book buried under the cloth, the girl's real secret.


	4. Chapter 4: The Trouble with Mushrooms

_Note: Originally written for a challenge at the rh_drabblefest LiveJournal community._

**The Trouble with Mushrooms**

It had to be the mushrooms. They had been nothing but trouble since Allan had found them in the forest, and declared they were magic. But as far as Will could tell the only thing magical about them was the effect they were having on the rest of the gang.

Allan was doing no worse than usual, but Djaq was another matter altogether. She was acting very strange. She was actually happy in a way Will had never seen before. She chattered and laughed, and if he didn't know any better, he would have guessed she was drunk. But this was Djaq, and Djaq could never be drunk. _Could she?_

"Come, Will. Sing me a song." She wrapped a careless arm around his shoulder and looked him right in the eye. "Or even better! Tell me a poem. A good English poem!"

Will slid out from the near-embrace. "I don't know any."

"C'mon, mate. Don't spoil her fun." Allan winked theatrically at him. "I know you know a good poem or two."

Will scowled at him, but Allan laughed it off.

"There's that one you told me yesterday…how does it go? 'Whistle or sing or show us your--'"

"Allan!"


End file.
